


Just a Little Kiss

by AlyKat



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, First Kiss, How are there no College!AUs?, M/M, This is the College!AU no one asked for, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 05:03:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12051900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlyKat/pseuds/AlyKat
Summary: The kiss was a joke, it was no big deal.Except for the fact it was a very big deal.





	Just a Little Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Friends, I present to you the Enterprise College!AU that absolutely NO ONE has apparently EVER in their LIVES decided to ask for. And in all honesty, I hadn't planned this to be a College!AU. Somehow it happened though. It was just supposed to be a little self-indulgent piece of romantic fluff to ease my soul since I can't get to the romance part of any of my other fics at the moment. Then I looked back and realized it was Trip and Malcolm at a Frat party and went, "O.o ...uh....oops?" So, I suppose it's still totally self-indulgent since I'm an absolute sucker for College!AU fics, and for some reason, just tossing Trip and Mal back to this present and deaging them to about early 20-somethings makes my tummy do funny things. So, humor me. Bear with me. I hope you guys can appreciate that this does not take place on a starship and Starfleet does not exist at all. 
> 
> Also, this was written on the fly, so, no beta. All mistakes are mine. The charries are not mine. Sadly. Or perhaps for the best. I dunno at this point. 
> 
> PS: _SFSU_ stands for San Francisco State University. Just a heads up.

Malcolm still couldn’t believe he had let that happen. It had been stupid and a complete lapse of judgment and just further proof of why one shouldn’t drink to excess. Even if it was a party and everyone else was plastered enough not to remember it had happened. He’d remember though. He’d remember the way Trip had thrown his arm around Malcolm’s shoulder, laughing and grinning from ear to ear as he swayed into Malcolm’s personal space all the more. 

_ “I ain’t ‘fraid of kissin’ a guy! I’m secure enough, I’ll kiss a guy! Hell, I’ll kiss Malcolm right now!”  _

The others had laughed, Malcolm had panicked. Before he knew what was happening, Trip had his hands on either side of his face and their lips were smashed together in an awkward and sloppy kiss. It was in no way what he’d ever hoped for. No, that wasn’t true. He’d always hoped that one day he’d gather the courage to kiss Trip; he’d just never imagined it’d be in front of the rest of their group of friends, or while intoxicated. In his mind, their first kiss was always gentle, somewhere private where no one could see them and Malcolm could savor it. 

When Trip had finally pulled away, after making the kiss decidedly far more indecent and cruel than it had any right to be -- really, what had been the point of shoving his tongue half-way down Malcolm’s throat? Everyone had gotten the point, Trip was too drunk to care who he was kissing. Was it necessary to give Malcolm a tonsil exam while humiliating him at the same time? -- Malcolm hadn’t waited to see what kind of reaction they received. His cheeks stained red, he’d turned tail and booked it out the door, their friend’s peels of unrestrained laughter and wolf whistles roaring in his ears as he went. 

It was childish and certainly gave far more away than it should have for Malcolm to go running back for his dorm room, but it was the only place he could think of that might be safe, at least for a little while. If he was lucky, it’d be safe for the rest of the night. Trip would no doubt find a beautiful Sorority girl to go home with soon enough, which meant Malcolm would have their room to himself for the night, so that he could wallow in self-pity with no one but Trip’s movie and band posters to judge him. 

* * *

 

Trip stood dumbfounded in his spot, his arm and side suddenly cold without Malcolm there to occupy that spot, but more than that, his head was spinning. And it wasn’t from the booze. It couldn’t have been, he’d yet to finish his first glass. There were many things that Charles “Trip” Tucker the Third was, but a big drinker wasn’t one of them. He’d talk a big game, and knew how to act the part, but when it came right down to it, Trip just wasn’t cut out for getting stupidly drunk. He knew how to make it look like he’d been downing glass after glass of terrible, tepid, cheap beers at the damn Frat parties he’d get invited to just so people would leave him alone about not drinking himself into oblivion. 

Everyone had been having such a good time, though. Trip had even managed to get his stiff upper-lipped roommate to come along to the party and unwind a little bit. Maybe it was the fact Malcolm had said yes, or maybe just seeing him so relaxed for a change, bright smiles and infectious laughter that was all too foreign to him, that had Trip acting extra foolish and overly loopy. Whatever it had been didn’t matter. What did matter was the fact Trip had screwed things up royally by letting himself get needled along, and jokingly pulling Malcolm in for what was supposed to be a harmless, chaste kiss. Instead, the three years of longing and wanting and waiting and dreaming had sprung to the forefront of his mind and Trip had ended up pouring himself into the kiss for all he was worth, desperately trying to make it memorable. He’d expected Malcolm to laugh too when they’d pulled apart, or at worst haul off and lay him out cold. Instead, Malcolm had looked like a deer caught in the headlights, fear and embarrassment flashed across his face, along with something that Trip had the sinking suspicion was devastation, before he turned and booked it through the crowd. 

The cheers and whistles and laughter of those around him had Trip snapping out of his daze. He blinked in confusion for a moment before setting his half-full red Solo cup down on the pool table-turned beer bong court and started for the door. He heard someone calling his name from behind him, but ignored it. In an act of utter stupidity, he had hurt the one person he cared for more than anything else in the world. Had hurt someone who’d suffered enough pain in their lives. Trip had to find Malcolm and apologize. The joke had been out of line. It had only been a joke, after all. At least to everyone else. Malcolm’s reaction made Trip wonder, though, if maybe there was something more there between them for them to discover. 

Hope surging through him, Trip darted down the street, narrowly avoided being clipped by a bus, and dodged a football as he ran through the quad and back towards his dorm. Stumbling up the stairs two at a time, he prayed that Malcolm was in their tiny shared room.

* * *

 

Chest tight and eyes burning with tears he refused to let fall, Malcolm slammed his dufflebag down on the bottom bunk and hastily began tossing clothes, his textbooks and notes and other essentials into it. He didn’t have a destination in mind, he just knew he needed to get out and away. Away from SFSU, possibly away from San Francisco all together, and most definitely away from Trip. 

When he’d arrived at SFSU three years prior, alone on move-in day, Trip Tucker had been there with an open smile and charismatic personality to match. In fact, the entire Tucker clan had been there to help see their son settle into his new life. Malcolm had been seen off at Hawthorne Airport by a gate attendant and a senile old grandmother figure who was convinced Malcolm was her son. Sad as it had been, Malcolm almost felt a little better being seen off by someone who mistook him for their son instead of having no one there to wish him well on his trip clear across the world. No one joined him on his journey to help him haul his luggage from the baggage claim to the curb for taxi pickup, or from the taxi to his check-in location. There had been students running around in gold and purple T-Shirts, more than willing to help carry things and show him where his dorm was located, each giving him a sad, sympathetic smile when they realized no one was there with him. He turned their offers down as graciously as he could manage. He’d gotten that far on his own, no use letting anyone help now.

The image of what he saw that first time he stepped foot in his new room was just as vivid as if it had just happened. Two young teens had taken up station on the bunk at the right side of the room, while another slightly older looking teen stood next to the other bunk at the left side. Luggage and boxes were strewn across every available surface and a couple fussed at the window about the blinds and curtains they were struggling to hang up. Dread had settled cold and heavy in the pit of Malcolm’s stomach until the tall, blonde, lithe figure to his left had turned and noticed him; flashing a smile that sent Malcolm’s entire world into a tailspin. That smile was all it took for him to find himself suddenly immersed in Trip’s life. 

_ “Hi! Y’ must be mah new roommie. Reed, right? Malcolm Reed? ‘M Charles Tucker the Third, e’erybody jist calls me Trip.” _

There had been something about the way Malcolm’s name seemed to roll off that Southern accent that had Malcolm squirming each time he heard it. And true to the old adage of never judge a book by its cover, Trip’s Southern drawl and general “dumb hick” air hid a quick wit, wicked sense of humor, deep compassion, and brilliant intelligence that Malcolm never would have guessed he could have possessed. The fact that Trip was there for the computer and mechanical engineering courses spoke volumes about him. That Trip already appeared to be friends with everyone on campus and had no problems pulling Malcolm into that circle of friends said even more about what kind of person he was. 

In three years he and Trip had forged a strong friendship, stronger than any friendship Malcolm had ever had in the past. They’d been through good times, and bad, and somehow managed to get themselves dubbed “The Disaster Twins”. Where one went, the other usually wasn’t far behind. In fact, they even spent their summers together just so Malcolm wouldn’t have to travel back to England, or Malaysia, or wherever his father happened to be stationed at the time. Malcolm had thought he’d known just about everything there was to know about Trip Tucker, but apparently “cruel trickster” had been a well hidden trait. 

Especially cruel since Trip was the only person to know that Malcolm was in fact bisexual.

* * *

 

“Malcolm?!” 

Trip’s feet tangled around themselves as he finally reached their open door and he nearly landed face down on the floor. Or he would have, at least, if he hadn’t been caught by a pair of deceptively strong arms. That was one of the things Trip loved about Malcolm -- and yes, it was love, Trip knew that now. There was more to Malcolm than he’d ever let show. People looked at Malcolm and saw a small, nearly scrawny, young man; quiet and reserved, some even called him standoffish. But Trip knew different. Trip knew Malcolm had a brutal sense of humor and wit so sharp it could cut through steel. Knew that Malcolm spent just as much time at the Recreation Center working out despite not being in any sports, as Trip did for each of his three different ones. He knew Malcolm was allergic to nearly everything under the sun, but that it didn’t keep him from ordering extra pineapple on his pizza; and that Malcolm had started off at SFSU without a major in mind and now was working on a double major in history and criminal justice. 

Most of all, he knew that it had taken far too much cajoling to get Malcolm to agree to go to that damned party, and he had enough trust that Trip would keep him safe and comfortable while surrounded by people he was unfamiliar with -- which to an extrovert like Trip was a fantastic way to spend the night, but to an introvert like Malcolm was no doubt hell on earth. Then Trip had gone and broken that trust in the most idiotic way possible.

Fingers wrapped around strong biceps, Trip lifted his head to look up into gunmetal grey eyes, bright with wetness that made Trip sick to his stomach. God, he’d messed up before in the past, but this put all his other screw ups to shame! He held Malcolm’s gaze for a moment, watching the myriad of emotions flicker through them before settling into a stormy ocean that had Trip scrambling to get to his feet. 

“Malcolm, I --” Trip paused, noticing the half-stuffed dufflebag sitting on the pristinely made bed. “You goin’ somewhere?”

Turning away with an undignified sniffle, Malcolm moved past Trip to grab his shower kit off his wardrobe door. “Why do you care?”

“Oh, I dunno, maybe cuz you’re my roommate an’ my best friend?” Trip answered, rolling his eyes as he folded his arms across his chest and leaned a hip against the bedpost. He hadn’t expected the bark of sarcastic laughter that had answered him in return.

“Friends don’t humiliated each other just to look  _ cool _ in front of all their jock buddies!” Spat Malcolm as he struggled to get the zip to close on his bag. “And why aren’t you falling down, dribbling on yourself yet? Lord knows you were drunk enough to make a fool of both of us, there’s no way you should still be standing here like that.”

Trip yanked the duffle away from Malcolm and spun him around by the shoulders. “Maybe cuz I didn’t drink near enough t’ be that stupidly drunk. C’mon! Y’know me! Y’know I don’t drink a lot! One or two beers with Jon on the weekends don’t do enough t’ get me slobberin’ drunk!” A quiet growl escaped him as Malcolm pulled away, shaking his head as he grabbed more things off his desk. “Dammit, Malcolm! Would’ja listen t’ me? Please? I’m tryin’ t’ apologize!”

“I don’t want an  _ apology _ , Mistah Tuckah,”

Trip flinched at the clipped and precise way Malcolm’s British accent spat those words at him. Usually when Malcolm called him “Mistah Tuckah”, they were joking around with each other. Mimicking each other’s accents. Malcolm was good at mimicking accents. That wasn’t a mimic though, that was all Malcolm.

“I don’t want any apologies, and I certainly don’t want to be the lab rat in anyone’s damn college experimental phase!” 

_ Experimental phase _ ? Confused more than anything else now, Trip blinked twice and shook his head. “Experiment...What are you talkin’ ‘bout? What ‘experimental phase’?”

He watched as Malcolm grabbed his duffle back and shoved a stockpile of pens and pencils into a side pocket before absently waving off towards him. “The whole, stereotypical tryst into trying out being gay or bi that college students are so prone to doing!”

Suddenly it was Trip’s turn to burst out laughing in disbelief. Three years of friendship, and yet Malcolm apparently hadn’t figured him out quite as much as he claimed he had. “Tryin’ out bein’ bi? You think that’s what I was doin’?”

“Why else would you have done it? Except as a cruel joke to make your buddies laugh? Take advantage of the fact you know I am bi, and so --”

“Ah kissed y’ cuz Ah figured it was the only chance Ah’d ever get!” Trip blurted out, his own frustration thickening his accent. 

The room went deathly quiet and still. Even the hall outside their open door was silent enough to hear a pin drop. Trip swallowed thickly and licked his lips before he turned and moved to shut and lock their door. The rest of the floor didn’t need to hear anything more than they already had. He’d embarrassed Malcolm enough for one night, he didn’t want to embarrass him even more by letting their dorm-mates hear what was about to be said. 

When he turned back to face Malcolm, Malcolm was frozen in place by his bottom bunk. Bunking their beds had been Trip’s idea to give them a bit more room in their cramped space. It had worked out nicely, except for the nights when his mind kept reminding him that Malcolm was asleep just below him, and then would taunt at him, telling him it was as close as he’d ever get to being on top of the smaller man. 

With a deep breath to steel himself against whatever might happen next, Trip took three cautious steps across the floor until he was standing at Malcolm’s side again. They didn’t say anything for a moment, but their eyes locked and Trip could see the confusion clouding Malcolm’s eyes. The tears still glittering, waiting to fall. More than anything Trip hated knowing he was the cause of them. Him and his stupidity. As his mama had told him, repeatedly, he was hella smart and had the test scores to prove it, but damn was he an idiot. 

Malcolm’s quiet voice, laced with uncertainty, finally broke the heavy silence between them. “Your only chance? You know I’m--”

“I know,” Trip cut in, shaking his head as he swallowed past the lump threatening to choke him to death. “You’re bi. I know that. But, I also know your preference leans towards the girls, not the guys.” Lord did he ever know that! So why did Malcolm still look so utterly confused? “Monica? Stephony? Deborah? Rochelle? Kaitlin? Katie? Laura? That new transfer student, Jolene? The one with the ‘awfully nice bum’ you follow around drooling over? Oh, an’ didn’t you tell me you thought your biology professor, Mrs. Fox was kinda sexy?”

Deep red rose up from under Malcolm’s shirt collar and stretched until it stained the tips of those sinfully high and chiseled cheekbones and Trip had to dig his nails into the palms of his hands to keep from reaching out to trail his thumb over it. 

“Wanna tell me why I should ever think I stood a chance with you after all those girls?” 

Grey eyes lifted to meet his again, cold accusation replacing the confusion that had been there just seconds before. Trip would have preferred the confusion. 

“Like you’re one to talk!”

“What’s that supposed t’ mean?”

Malcolm huffed, his arms folded over his chest as he began ticking off a list of his own. The Conquests of Charles Tucker the Third, as he’d come to call them. “Ah’Len. Liana. That Sorority girl, Princess Whatever!” 

Trip quirked a brow as he tilted his head, mentally adding them up in his head. Malcolm had forgotten his three previous relationships before coming to San Francisco. Which was sad considering Malcolm had been there when Trip opened the package from Natalie to find everything he’d given her tucked away inside along with a Dear John letter. 

“Ah’Len? Nothin’ happened between me an’ her! I was showin’ her around as a favor t’ my Practical Engineering professor. We went t’ lunch, rented a row boat, that was it!” When Malcolm still looked at him skeptically, Trip felt himself start to bristle. “She was  _ sixteen, _ Malcolm. I wasn’t gonna put the moves on a kid like that! An’ as for Liana,  _ she _ came on t’  _ me _ ! I was j’st there t’ help her with her project. She’s the one who kissed me first, an’ I let her down gently ‘fore she could get any wrong ideas.”

Malcolm shifted uneasily for a moment, the realization that it was in fact he who had been the bed hopper slowly coming to light. Still, it was obvious he was fighting to win. “What about that Princess, or whatever her name was?”

Trip opened his mouth, a denial ready on his lips when he stopped short. Okay, so, he and Princess had gotten along like water and oil, plenty of heated barbs thrown at each other, but yeah, okay, maybe he had  _ one _ . “...y’ get one. That’s it. Fine. I had Princess. One compared t’ your...how many?”

“It doesn’t change anything,” Malcolm mumbled. He turned his head away, hugging himself tight as he realized just how right Trip was. Trip didn’t want to be right, though. He wanted to make things better and maybe, just maybe, see if something could would between them.

He waited for a moment, letting the silence hang between them again before he let his own arms drop and he reached out to grip Malcolm’s arm gently, drawing his attention back around. “Ah thought y’ knew Ah was bi, too, Mal. Ah thought y’ knew but that y’ j’st weren’t interested in me like that. That’s why Ah never did anythin’ ‘bout it. Why Ah figured kissin’ y’ back at that party was the only chance Ah’d get t’ do it. Ah didn’t mean t’ embarrass y’ or make y’ uncomfortable. Ah care ‘bout you, Malcolm.” The confession was quiet and heartfelt, and Trip, incapable of keeping his heart off his sleeve, knew his emotions shone bright in his own eyes as he let his hand trail slowly, feather light, down Malcolm’s arm until it reached his wrist. 

He heard the sharp inhale as his fingers ghosted over the soft underside of Malcolm’s wrist. Saw the fear and hope warring with each other in Malcolm’s eyes and felt hope of his own spring back up. Glancing down to where his hand was ever so gently holding on at Malcolm’s pulse point, Trip shrugged and let his fingers trail further down, until he was brushing them down the long, boney fingers he’d seen covered in salt and butter after their movie nights together, or scraped and bruised after whatever fighting classes it was Malcolm took. Fingers that when Trip brought his own back up across, splayed just enough for his to slot between until they were interlocked in the most wonderful way. Trip able to rub the pad of his thumb over that pulse point once more and feel it jump with anticipation. 

“Ah think,” he continued, voice barely a whisper as he stared at their clasped hands, “if Ah’m bein’ honest, that Ah went an’ fell in love with y’ at some point.”

Again he heard Malcolm draw in a sharp breath. 

“You...you  _ love _ me?”

Swallowing hard, Trip nodded. He stepped closer, bringing their hands up to trap between them as he stared down into cautiously hopeful eyes. No longer the stormy grey of an angry ocean, or even cold gunmetal, but warm and shining like pure platinum. 

“Been in love with y’ for a while now. J’st thought...hell, Malcolm. I’m so sorry ‘bout the party. Please stay?” He let Malcolm’s hand drop in favor of once again gently putting his hands to those sharp cheeks. “ _ Please _ .” The quiet plead barely left his mouth before he was dipping down to press another kiss to Malcolm’s lips. This one soft and searching, begging for forgiveness and understanding. 

For one terrifying moment, Trip feared Malcolm was going to pull back and hit him just the same. It wasn’t until he heard the soft  _ thud _ of a duffle bag hitting the floor, and found himself oh-so-carefully being pulled down onto the bunk that Trip relaxed. 

Malcolm would stay, and Trip would do everything in his power, for as long as it took, to make up for breaking the hard earned trust Malcolm had put in him. 


End file.
